Good Things
by Winds of Autumn
Summary: For once, Daryl doesn't fight good things happening to him. DarylxBeth
1. Chapter 1

Good Things

Chapter 1

AN: This is the first chapter, to see if there is any interest. I don't really have a specific idea of where this is going. It will be AU, where the prison does not fall and Beth is not killed by Dawn, that much I do know. Let me know what you all think :)

If someone asked him to explain what he had been thinking, he wasn't sure that his thought process at the time would make sense now. But maybe it would. In all his life he had never had anything good. Before the turn things had been bleak. Full of beatings in his youth, and following Merle around dealing drugs and scraping by in his adulthood. Things hadn't gotten decent for him until meeting Rick and discovering that he could become his own man, and that man could be a good one.

Sure, he still shyed away from physical contact and too much attention, but he didn't flinch when he did something nice for someone any more. He had stopped looking over his shoulder looking for his father, or Merle, ready to hurt him over showing what they deemed as weakness. He had learned that he wasn't weak, and that being a decent person wasn't bad. It was empowering.

So when she had come to him, all glowing with goodness and wanting him of all people, he hadn't been able to turn her away. He had immersed himself in her and soaked up her golden light and had felt loved for once in his life. And because he had liked it so much, he had told her they had to keep them a secret. He wasn't willing to give her up for the uprising he was sure would greet them if they were found out.

She was sweet little Beth Greene, and he was Daryl Dixon. They wouldn't understand. They would think he was forcing her, and they would force them apart. Just because the world had gone all to hell didn't mean people had stopped butting their nose where it didn't belong. He was technically old enough to be her father.

Her happiness was being noticed though. There was speculation about who might be causing it. The running leading guess was Zach. It was strange to hate a kid that young, but he did. Every time Daryl saw the kid strutting around following Beth he wanted to put his fist into his face. But then Beth would look up and give him that small smile meant only for him, and he kept walking pacified. She wasn't interested in Zach. She wanted him.

They had been seeing each other for two months now, secretly, and Daryl wondered if he should approach Hershell. He wanted to make Beth happy. He was starting to see how the suspicions of who was making her happy was getting to her. She still smiled brightly, still floated around as if on her own cloud that wasn't in the middle of this hell of walking flesh eaters, but there were starting to be bags under her eyes from being up at night with him just being together.

Chewing on his thumb as he kept his watch shift Daryl's mind wandered over the question again. Would trying to do the right thing, what would have been expected before the dead rose, ruin everything they had now? Would Hershell shoot him the second the words came out of his mouth? Even worse, would they make him go and leave Beth behind? He would rather cut his own arm off than do anything to make her cry. He cringed slightlly, habit nearly 35 years old still telling him that he was a pussy for feeling that way.

No, he thought. Being a pussy was making her keep hiding what they were, what they had. He would approach Hershell as soon as he was relieved from his shift. He would ask the man's permission to marry her, to make her happy in public and not hide anymore. He could only hope the man said yes.


	2. Chapter 2

Good Things

Chapter 2

AN: The follows and alerts for this are already amazing! Thank you! Please review :)

The group sometimes forgot that she wasn't a little girl, that she had been 17 when things had gone to hell in a hand basket about what she guessed was two or more years ago now. They didn't see her as an adult, as a valuable member of their developing family or anything more than an added responsibility that kept the more valuable ones free from caring for Judith. Not that she wasn't grateful to be alive at all, because she sure was, but she wanted to be aknowledged as an adult at least, if not a strong woman.

She wasn't sure she would ever be as strong as Maggie, or Sasha, or Carol. Or even Lori, who had fought and given her own life to see her daughter brought into their hellish world alive. That had taken strength. Keeping that baby when everyone had seen the strain it put on Rick during her pregnancy had taken strength. Helping them kill walkers and find food and keep watch and contributing to the group more than they had ever expected or allowed Beth to, even as her pregnancy advanced, had shown that Lori Grimes had been a strong woman.

But Beth was mostly content. Even if she wasn't as strong as those women, she had been entrusted with a life. Possibly the most important life in the group, for all little Judith represented-the hope, the good, the light, God, the future- in their darkened world. And when little Judy looked up at her, Rick's eyes shining with all the light that had been in Lori's eyes, and smiled that gummy drool dripping smile Beth saw that the future was bright. Beth saw that she wanted someone to share that eventual future with.

So her attention had turned to the man who had sent a storm of butterflies crazy in her belly the first time she had seen him, and every time since. She was sure he hadn't paid her much mind- seriously, he was older and could have had his pick of women, why would he notice her? He probably thought of her as a little girl.

She knew little about his past, about what had shaped him into the man he was now. Beth had watch his evolution from the farm to now, where he was looked to as a leader second only to Rick. She saw his uncomfortable shifting any time he was praised, or thanked for something he had done for the group. The way he avoided physical contact, even with Carol whom he was close to. The way he seemed constantly restless indoors, but outside his shoulders relaxed even as he faced off with walkers.

Beth had watched him for months before mustering up the courage to approach him. Of course they had talked before, had interracted, but never with her current intent in mind. Daryl was a good man, and she believed if he gave her the chance, she could make him see it like no one else could. Perhpas she could even make him happy, like a woman should make her man. She hoped he wouldn't laugh in her face and send her scurrying off like one of the children.

She had scrubbed extra clean in the shower that night, humming under her breath in attempt to calm her nerves. Talking to Daryl made her nervous, made her ultra aware of how her body awoke and responded to his. Goosebumps errupted when he spoke, the raspy southern drawl playing her body like an instrument. And that was just his voice.

Beth was by no means completely inexperienced, she and Jimmy had experimented with some things, but she had only ever felt Jimmy's touch on her body. Never a man, never a man like Daryl. If her body came alive with only his voice she knew that his touch would send her to the moon.

As she dried off, rubbing the last of the pretty scented lotion Maggie had brought back for her onto her body, Beth wished she had pretty clothes to wear too. She had found her cleanest, what she imagined most evocative clothes- a little pair of black shorts that she used for pajamas, and a tight ribbed white tank top. The top offered just enough cleavage to hopefully tempt him, while still staying modest. She left her hair down, towel drying it as much as she could, before she gathered her things and took them back to her cell.

Drawing in a deep calming breath, Beth made her way quietly down the cell block and up the stairs to the one Daryl had claimed. Her arguements for why swirled in her head as she pulled the sheet back and stepped inside. Daryl's back was to her his cross bow laying just next to him, his hand wrapped around the hilt of his knift. Her throat tightened at the sight of long jagged purple scars peeking out of his shirt. No wonder he slept with a knife.

"Daryl?" she whispered softly, cautiously approaching the bed. She saw his back tense as he came awake. "It's me, Beth," she added quickly for fear of being on the receiving end of his blade in the dark.

He grunted as he sat up, his eyes sharpening as they came to rest on her. Beth held her breath, feeling like his blue gaze was scorching her body. "What're ya doin here?" he all but growled, looking away and chewing on his thumb.

Beth stepped closer, hesitating a moment before sitting slowly on the bunk next to him. "I wanted to talk to ya," she said softly, looking down at her hands.

"Well, get ta it girl, don't got all night," he grumbled.

Nodding, Beth took a deep breath, her verbal arguements leaving her as she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

AN: I know, cliffhanger! It was asked if their history would come out, and here is part of it. I'm starting to get a better idea of where this will go. I will probably finish up their history, bringing it back to Daryl in the first chapter and continue on from there. Please review!


	3. Chapter 3

Good Things

Chapter 3

Being woken up by Beth had been unusual in itself. Daryl was always a light sleeper, awake before most people got close enough to lay eyes on him. He must have been that tired, to not have heard her. He had still been trying to clear the fog from his eyes when he had seen what she was wearing- or how little. Her long legs were pale but muscled from all the hard work demanded from her in the upkeep of the farm and now the prison. Her hips had shifted, curving up into her small waist and up to small but perky breasts. She didn't look like a child, but a young woman. Not the voluptuous women he had preferred, but a woman's body all the same, and not nearly as thin as one might have expected for their current world. And his body was making sure he knew it.

Daryl hadn't been very good with the ladies before the turn. Of course, he had had a few that he had seen regularly and they'd had a good time, but none he would have considered life sharing partner material. No, those had been purely physical. But this girl, this young woman, wasn't one of those women. She was the type that before, he would have seen perfectly at home behind a white picket fence with a yard full of kids, a mini van and a rich successful, doting husband. She wasn't a one night stand type.

He tried to pay attention to anything but her pale skin as he waited for her to spit out why she had woken him. And then, it was like he was tasting heaven. Sweet, merciful heaven. He wondered if this was a dream. If he had been bitten somewhere and he had woken in a dream and this was his torture, to feel heaven knowing he didn't deserve to. He stiffened up his hands lifting to her arms to pull her away when he felt her fingers slide into his hair. He almost moaned against her lips. No one had ever been so intimate with him. He had never imagined that anything had been missing in his life, in his prior experiences and in his wants until that moment. Her lips weren't nearly as experienced as some that he had met, but they were sweet and perfectly shaped against his. He could taste her want, her hope, her need.

The thought woke him and he jerked back, staring at her wide eyed. "Whadya think yer doin girl," he growled moving away from her and pacing the length of his room. This was bad. It was enough for her to have some sort of crush on him, but for him to respond? He was a sick old man. Her father was going to kill him.

"I'm tired of being alone," came her soft reply and he could swear he heard tears clogging her voice. He nearly swore. He knew what she meant. They were all alone, merely congregated together as a mismatch band of merrymen.

"Whadya mean alone? Yer dad and Maggie are here." He prayed, for maybe the second time in his life, that she didn't start crying. He didn't know how to deal with a woman crying, and he sure as hell didn't want to learn how.

"It's not the same. I... I want to be a woman to someone." Daryl watched her pull her knees up to her chest, looking very much a young scared girl that she obviously didn't want to be.

"What bout Zach? Or the guys from Woodbury?"

A small smile stole across her lips and she shook her head. "No... They only think they know what to do. I want a man... A man like you, Daryl," she said, lifting her eyes shyly to look at him. His groin tightened and that look, a mix of innocent and sultry that he was sure she didn't even know she could give.

Could he do it? Could he use her body, taste her innocence and still act as though nothing had changed? His body was screaming at him yes. And with her looking up at him like that, like he was some kind of hero, it made it hard for him to think straight. He had never had anyone look at him like that and it was a heady feeling. His body shifted closer to her on its own, pulled in like gravity toward her. As long as he kept things physical, as long as he didn't let her crush develop into anything more, maybe she would get bored with him and move on. The thought made his gut clench like he had been punched, but he knew he had nothing to give her. Relationships these days just didn't end well. Rick and Lori were proof of that, and they had been married before things went to shit.

Beth stood to meet him never breaking eye contact. Sensing his nervousness she was careful to keep still. He was in many ways a frightened animal. He inched closer, their breaths seeming to freeze in their lungs as his hand came up to cradle her face. Her skin was silky under his roughly caloused fingers, a foreign feeling that he had never thought he would know. Unbidden the impression of home drifted to him, but he pushed the thoughts away. Swallowing thickly before he could change his mind he stepped back.

"Tomorrow night, midnight. Meet me in the showers." He watched her blue eyes light up, fighting his bodys reaction. "This will just be sex, Beth," he warned, the light dimming slightly. She bit her lip again and nodded bravely, sticking her hand out to him.

"Deal," she breathed.

Daryl couldn't fall back to sleep after she left. He had lain on his bunk for an hour staring at the cracked dirty ceiling before he gave up and got dressed, heading outside to start his day. It was still mostly dark out but he had never slept well. Even as a kid he had been awake before dawn hoping to slip from his house before his dad returned home from the bar looking to start a fight with someone who wouldn't fight back.

He didn't mind the lack of sleep. It was less time for the nightmares to haunt him. Besides, the animals moved well in the early morning before it was light enough for them to be seen well. Maybe he would get lucky enough to get one today. They had been running slim on good meat lately, most times going without completely or dividing a few squirrels up into a stew big enough for everyone. They tried to make sure those who needed it most got it more often, the same with everything else that was in such short supply. Things were far better than they had been last winter on the road with a pregnant woman, though. He doubted things would reach that low again unless they were again on the road. He didn't think Rick would let that happen without a fight though.

Slipping through the darkened woods Daryl felt the pressure on his chest relax somewhat. The outdoors had always done that for him though. It was part of the reason he had been content to follow Merle around without much complaint. There were no limitations of a daily job, little to no obligations such as bills and time. Daryl had never been as much of a law breaker as Merle, had never been as deeply into drugs, but a 9-5 job and life had never appealed to him. The open road, the quiet of the woods, the solitude and absence of responsibility had been everything he had wanted.

Before.

Now, he would gladly go back and don a suit for a 9-5 job if that meant things hadn't gone to shit. If it meant Merle hadn't been cuffed to a rooftop because of his prejudices. If it meant that Beth could have finished her childhood and been happy.

He shook his head, ridding those thoughts from his head. He needed to be careful with her. Daryl Dixon didn't have much if any heart left, and it certainly wouldn't be pure and large enough to make someone like Beth Greene happy for very long. If he let her in any further he would be left behind broken and empty, not her.

AN: Thank you for all the reviews! I'm sorry its been a while. My kids got sick, then we got pregnant, then learned we are losing the baby. So its been hectic. Working on the next chapter now! Leave me a review :-)


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